Forever Lost
by Mememe
Summary: “…and of the fate of Eluréd and Elurín no tale tells.” Until now. (Silmarillion fic, though you’d likely be able to understand it even if you haven’t read the book.)


A/N: Again, edited a bit. If anyone has suggestions on how to fix it up further (Thank you Laziness Incarnate!) please say so! Or even better, if someone would like to beta read I'd be thrilled. Once more, thank you to all the folks who reviewed!  
  
Desclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in here. Duh. I also don't own "In Dreams" which is the absolutely beautiful song quoted here.  
  
  
  
  
  
(Prelude: The Fall of Dior, retold from The Silmarillion.)  
  
After Lúthien Tinúviel, Dior son of Beren and heir of Thingol bore the Silmaril that had been set in the Nauglamir, the Necklace of the Dwarves. And word of this found its way to the sons of Feanor, who had sworn a terrible oath in which they vowed to recover their father's coveted jewels at any cost. So the brothers gathered from their wandering and sent word to Dior, intending to claim the Silmaril as their own by right. But they received no reply and anger stirred amongst them. Then Celegorm roused his brothers and they prepared an attack on Doriath, the dwelling-place of Dior.  
  
In the middle of winter the sons of Feanor attacked and a battle raged between them and the bearer of the Silmaril. It was there, in the Thousand Caves, that the second slaying of Elf by Elf occurred. Celegorm, Curufin, and Caranthir were felled there but Dior perished also, as did his wife Nimloth. And Doriath was conquered, never to rise again. Few escaped the destruction, but among those that did was Elwing, the young daughter of Dior. And she went on to marry and give birth to Elrond and Elros, from which two great lines sprang.  
  
Yet Dior's two sons, Eluréd and Elurín, were captured by Celegorm's heartless servants and driven into the snow-covered woods of Doriath, left there to starve. While Maedhros, eldest son of Feanor, regretted this action and searched long and hard for them, the search was in vain. No more than traces were found and it was assumed they had been indeed lost. Of Eluréd and Elurín, the two sons of Dior and Nimloth, no tale tells.  
  
Until now.  
  
  
  
FOREVER LOST  
  
The tale of Eluréd and Elurín  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Even in his dreams he knew something was wrong. For a long time after his parents had tucked him into bed he had lain there, caught between dreams and reality, tossing and turning and mumbling. But then something finally happened.  
  
He sat bolt upright in bed, trying vainly to stop his body's violent trembling. While his breath caught in his throat and his heart thudded painfully against his ribcage, he ignored it. Only one thing was important at the moment. He had heard something.  
  
No – no. It couldn't have been a nightmare. Young as he was, he just knew. Something whispered it to him in the back of his mind. A sort of subconscious warning. As for any further knowledge…  
  
Frightened of the unknown Eluréd strained eyes and ears in the darkness, searching. Time ticked by with agonizing slowness. Long minutes of silence passed and no evidence of anything presented itself; the sureness he had felt only moments ago faltered. He was suddenly uncertain. Had it only been his imagination, as so many times before? Why would it not be? There was nothing to fear in his own home.  
  
Nothing moved. Not a sound found its way to his ears. Still he waited, breathing silent with the thudding of his heart more than making up for it.  
  
Finally his patience wore out and he plucked together all the courage he could, calling quietly into the night. "Elurín? Are you awake?" From across the room where his younger brother slept, Eluréd caught not a sound. So his brother slept after all. Surely, then, he had heard nothing.  
  
With a soft sigh of relief that turned into a yawn, Dior's eldest son collapsed back into the softness of his bed and pulled the thick covers up about his chin. His eyes slowly drooped, fluttered, and finally closed peacefully as he settled into a relaxed sleep he had earlier struggled to find.  
  
Only to have it denied once more.  
  
A long-fingered hand was clapped over his mouth the same moment as his arms were pinned to his sides, and the cry that escaped his throat automatically was muffled by it; the sound was lost before it left his throat. In an instant he made the switch from barely awake to fully alert. Suddenly consumed by fear he thrashed madly about, throwing his slight weight to and fro in a desperate attempt to escape the painfully tight grip. Try as he might, he was no match for his captor and could not even cry out for help. The truth of his situation hit him hard. Trapped.  
  
Above him a conversation was taking place, an unknown number of people speaking of unknown things. Trembling a little, he ceased his struggles and instead tried to listen.  
  
"Shall we tie them up?"  
  
"No. Just knock them out."  
  
"Are you certain—"  
  
"No, no. Do not argue with him. I merely want to get this finished."  
  
There was a heavy sigh from somewhere. "As do I. Let us hurry, then." Instinctively Eluréd tensed, ready to lash out at any movement. But the reflex was too late. Something heavy connected with the side of his head. Pain flared up brightly, stars flashed in front of his eyes. Then a heavy blackness blotted out everything.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
When the cold of winter comes  
  
Starless night will cover day  
  
In the veiling of the sun  
  
We will walk in bitter rain  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
It was so dreadfully cold.  
  
Eyes still closed tightly, Eluréd reached out to pull his warm woven blanket closer. It wasn't there. His small hand groped about for a bit, trying sleepily to figure out what was going on. He was awakened completely when, instead of warm cloth and soft bedding, his fingers came in contact with something distinctly crunchy. And cold. Very cold.  
  
With a yelp and a start his hand was pulled back to the safety of his chest. Dior's son hesitated for a moment, puzzled. That feeling was strangely familiar. Why, it almost felt like snow. But what would snow be doing in his bedroom?  
  
Cautiously he allowed his eyelids to open just a little, peering out from behind heavy dark eyelashes. What he saw certainly didn't look like his bedroom. Everything was white.  
  
White.  
  
A cry of shock escaped his lips, which he now noticed felt quite cold. As did the rest of him. He struggled to sit up, dark eyes wide and fearful as they took in his surroundings. A fallen tree lay just above his head, sheltering a small strip of ground beneath it and keeping the area he sat upon snow-free. The rest of where he looked, as far as his elven sight could see, was covered in the white powder. Trees, completely devoid of leaves, stood all around him like dark skeletons. Not a sign of life could be seen. Anywhere. Eluréd shivered, not just from the cold. Where was he?  
  
It was a tiny sound from nearby that brought him from horrified thoughts. A tiny whimper, like tears just barely managed to be held back. Almost like…  
  
"Is… is that you, Eluréd?" Never in his young life had Eluréd heard words that made him as happy as that frightened whisper. Fast as his body would allow, he whirled about and came face to face with what could have been a slightly younger, exact copy of him. A wave of relief and absolute joy washed over him, threatening to sweep him away in the feeling. Ignoring the protest of sore muscles and a head that ached, Eluréd sprang forward and enveloped his younger brother in a crushing hug. No words were spoken for a long while; all that needed to be said was done so for them, in the desperate and terrified, yet incomprehensibly thankful way they clung to each other.  
  
So glad was Eluréd to see his brother that he simply held tightly to him, and it wasn't for several minutes that he realized Elurín was sobbing quietly. Startled he pulled back, holding the younger boy by the shoulders at arm's length. "Elurín? Are you hurt?" he asked quickly, worry shining clearly in his dark eyes. Fear grasped at his heart with icy fingers, colder even than the snow that so completely surrounded them.  
  
Dior's youngest son paused briefly to control his crying before lifting his fair, tear-stained face to his older brother. "I'm frightened," he murmured finally, eyes dropping to avoid Eluréd's gaze. "What are we going to do?"  
  
The eldest of the two sighed heavily, shaking his head. This was the last thing he had wanted to think about. So soon had the joyous moment been clouded by the harsh reality. Worriedly he chewed at his bottom lip, thinking, eyes still locked on his brother as though Elurín was the only hope he had yet to hold onto. The idea that this might be the truth was sharply avoided.  
  
At long last he spoke, voice even as he could keep it. "Do not fear, brother. We will just… just…" He hesitated, lifting a long finger to his younger brother's face and gently brushing away a tear. When he spoke again his words were firm, confident. "We will walk until we find people. Surely we cannot be too far from something."  
  
"We can't stay here." Elurín broke in, the slight rise in his voice making the statement more of a question than it had been meant to be. He looked back into his older brother's eyes, trying to take comfort in the strength of someone more knowing than he. It wasn't in vain; Eluréd's eyes shone with determination and no small amount of protectiveness.  
  
"No. We can't," he agreed, nodding. "If we stay here we will freeze. So we have to go." His gaze softened and his fingers brushed his brother's cheek lightly, before dropping under his chin to lift his face upwards. Their eyes locked. "We'll be strong, won't we?"  
  
Elurín fought back the tears that threatened to overflow and met the older boy's gaze steadily. "Y-yes, Eluréd." The older boy forced a smile and nodded.  
  
"That's right," he replied slowly, an obviously false note of cheerfulness in his voice. Then he turned away, staring into the snow-covered forest. For a long minute he hesitated, as if suddenly not sure what needed to be done. It was as though the dark trees looming in all directions, the bleak whiteness, the very loneliness of the whole situation had suddenly caught up with him. Memories were flooding back and he couldn't help but wonder if this was hopeless after all. For all he knew the rest of his family was dead and his younger brother and he had no place to return to. Those people who had left them here might even be headed back, having decided to finish the job.  
  
Eluréd clamped his jaw firmly, eyes suddenly narrowing with determination. In any case he had his brother to look out for, and if they stayed around here they would only be wasting time and lessening their chances of surviving this at all.  
  
With a soft grunt he was on his feet, already reaching down to yank Elurín up. "Come on then," he said stoutly, ignoring the protests of aching muscles and bruised flesh. His head felt sore in the back and his vision swam when he moved too quickly, probably results from their captors' handiwork, but this too was paid little heed. There was no time to worry about his own pain. He had his brother to tend to.  
  
The younger of Dior's sons managed to stand with less difficulty than his brother, likely due to the fact that he had put up less of a struggle in his fright. He was up and eager to be off almost instantly, night blue eyes wide as he looked about. Fear was there, although the majority of his feelings were centered around curiosity. Young as he was he understood most of the situation but was naïve enough that having Eluréd along made most of the fright dissolve for him.  
  
Dark eyes blinked innocently up at the older boy, who was a good head taller now that they stood. "Eluréd?"  
  
"What?" Already strong fingers had wrapped themselves around Elurín's hand and gently tugged him forward, into motion. He nearly had to skip to catch up with the long strides of his older brother, who didn't stop to respond to his question.  
  
"Eluréd, I'm hungry." It was true enough. Neither was sure what time it was, but they hadn't eaten since dinner the night before. Which had been, for all they knew, the last meal their family would ever have together.  
  
Still Eluréd's pace slowed not at all, though he did seem to falter once, mid-stride. But he quickly caught himself and hurried on, almost dragging the younger along. "I am too," he said finally, sighing. "And I don't know where we might be able to find anything. It is winter, after all… I think the only hope we have, brother, is to keep going. We are bound to find help eventually and then we can eat. Until then it would be best not to stop."  
  
This Elurín accepted in silence, saving his breath for the task of keeping up with his brother. It was a quite a formidable job in itself, after all.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Long the two trudged onward. One day dragged to two, and two became three. The snow was piled deep in some places and, often enough to be exhausting, Eluréd was forced to plow his way through drifts, making a path for his younger, shorter brother. At night he slept rarely, having to rouse his brother every so often so neither froze. All this was adding up and slowly but surely taking a toll on his energy. And yet it didn't bother him so much, really. Always he had felt protective of his siblings. Now that feeling seemed to have multiplied by a hundredfold. The very thought that they were all each other had in the world…  
  
He shook his head to clear it and tried to take a good look around. At the moment it felt like they had been walking forever and still the woods had no end. They might as well have been walking in place, since nothing in the forest had changed. There were no signs of life at all, even to their sharp sight, and it was more than a little depressing. Each time he heard Elurín's stomach growl his heart was wrenched painfully and he longed to be able to do something that might ease the pain he knew his brother was feeling. He knew, because he was feeling the same gnawing hunger and biting cold.  
  
Their hands had remained clasped tightly from the start, though every so often they switched from right to left so the numbed limb could be pulled into the warmth of their clothing. Yes, that was one thing they could be thankful for, at least. Because it was winter they had slept fully clothed, and warmly at that. Had it not been for that they mightn't have managed this far.  
  
But they had managed to struggle forward for long hours each day, though by now it was almost blindly. Their feet moved without thought, one in front of the other, in a constant, endless rhythm. Weariness clung to them like mud, dragging their steps down, slowing them. And it was then that Elurín stumbled. He likely would have gone sprawling into the snow had Eluréd not used reflexes, suddenly awakened, to catch him. The younger boy gasped, clung to the older's arms, and fought back exhausted and frustrated tears.  
  
"I'm so tired, Eluréd! I'm so tired!" he moaned quietly, trembling in his brother's arms. Eluréd sighed and shook his head slowly, eyes filled with pain.  
  
"We have to keep going…" It was fear that drove him; fear of those who put them in this situation coming back, fear of death, fear of losing his brother. In the end it was this last fear that forced him to an uncertain decision. "But we will rest shortly, brother. Do not sit down. Lean against a tree."  
  
These words brought a shaky smile to Elurín's face and he nodded, reaching out a hand rest upon the snow-free portion of a nearby tree's trunk. He let out a long breath and leaned against the rough bark, letting his head drop gently against it. Allowing his brother to take strength from the sturdy tree rather than himself, Eluréd moved away for a moment and looked around to get his bearings.  
  
The forest stretched out in all directions, just as it had from the start. Still there was no sign of any villages, roads, not even a shack in the middle of the wood. But one thing did catch his eye amidst the endless trees. In any other situation it likely would have gone unnoticed, though now it stood like a beacon of hope. An old, thick-trunked oak loomed above the others, wide branches almost beckoning. It seemed strong, wise.  
  
Drawn like a child to a grandparent, Eluréd took a hesitant step towards it, arm outstretched and fingers reaching. The tree was fair distance away, but with long strides he covered the ground and his fingers met rough bark, comforting to touch.  
  
Trees. Older even than the Elves, he knew. They held knowledge he could only begin to imagine, more than perhaps that which his father knew. And sometimes… in times of great need… one could almost… talk to them.  
  
Dark eyes fixed on the massive trunk before him; Eluréd took a hesitant step forward, letting his palm press firmly against the tree's bark. He chewed uncertainly at his lip for a moment, took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Nothing happened at first, but then images came. No… not really images. More like feelings.  
  
His body was overcome with a dull cold. Everything went numb, became slow. The very blood that ran through his veins seemed thick and lazy, like the sap of a tree during winter. Then a realization hit him. It wasn't his own body he was feeling. It was the tree. On the outside drab, cold and dead in appearance. Life had been pulled deep inside, running thick and slow, but there just the same.  
  
This he reached out to, pleading to be heard, helped. That retracted life flickered, acknowledged him slowly, sought to respond. Each thing took long minutes to happen as the sleepy old tree woke, almost blinked, gathering everything together once more.  
  
Awed, Eluréd waited patiently, remaining motionless. A question burbled up in his mind, drowsy yet concerned. Comfort radiated from it, like a parent wrapping their child in a warm hug.  
  
At this he withdrew slightly, flinching. Would he ever feel that again, from his own parents?  
  
As if his mind had been read, the comfort became a soothing assurance that yes, indeed, he would.  
  
Someday.  
  
Wonder overcame him. Was it possible…?  
  
It seemed as though a gentle chuckle ran through his mind, then a quiet urging. His question. Yes. He paused, trying to work out how to phrase the request for help. But once again his mind was read before voice could be put to use. Almost a nod of understanding. Elaborate, it told him.  
  
This time he understood what to do. Instead of trying to form words, sentences, he merely thought. He pulled memories of his family, the capture, the situation he and his brother had found themselves thrown into. It wrenched his heart painfully but he spilled it all into the patient and understanding life he had found. When he finished there was a long pause. Then a deep breath and a feeling of plunging.  
  
Down he fell, plummeting to the bottom of… where? And as suddenly as the drop had come, things branched off in hundreds, thousands of directions. A bit this way, a bit that. Too many to count. Blurs of thoughts, emotions, colors, sounds. He couldn't keep track of it all. Whirling, moving, passing and coming.  
  
Once more he was jerked in a direction, though this time it felt as though strong arms had plucked him from a fall and held him tightly. Everything stopped moving. Then all that that had come and gone formed into one, very slowly. Bits and pieces were pulled together like sections of a puzzle. And it all made sense. Images flashed before him, half-formed and once again, more like emotions. But he understood them.  
  
Wide open cold, harsh and undesirable. Pinpoints of life, stretched out in all directions. Green life, slow life. Two small, insignificant points of faster life, more vibrant, lost amidst the green and cold.  
  
Then something was being poured into him, steadily. A warm, living flow of life, slow but steady. Then it pulled back, whispered something gentle, a farewell. It softly pushed him away, to face what he needed to.  
  
He opened his eyes slowly, blinking back the white glare of the snow. With a start he pulled himself away from the tree, which he found himself nearly hugging. Stepping reluctantly back, he took in the old oak one last time, nodded a little, and turned away to find his brother. As he did so a tear spilled over, dripping with odd slowness down his cheek. Almost sadly he brushed it away with slim fingers and walked on.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Elurín? Elurín, are you alright?" Anxiously Eluréd shook his brother, worry written all over his face. The younger boy had drooped himself across a low branch and fallen into a deep sleep. How long he had been sleeping Eluréd didn't know, but it worried him. He wasn't certain as to how cold it was, but they couldn't take chances. "Elurín!" A lump rising in his throat, he gave his little brother a rough shake. To his great relief the small elven boy mumbled something, stirred, and opened his eyes.  
  
"Where… where are we?" Elurín yawned, blinking the haze from his vision. He peered up at his brother and rubbed at his eyes with a balled hand. His reply was a relieved smile.  
  
"Never mind that. Come on, we have something to eat."  
  
"Food?" Sleepy eyes went wide. "How?"  
  
Eluréd paused, chewing his lip. "I just… found it. Almost like I knew it was there." This was good enough for his starved brother. He nodded and grabbed the older boy's hand tightly.  
  
"Show me."  
  
The older nodded in reply and started off with renewed strength, plowing along through the drifts, trusting younger brother in tow. They hadn't gone far when Eluréd stopped, reached out to a nearby tree and closed his eyes. His delay was brief and after a handful of seconds they were off again, course changed slightly to the left. Two more stops were made and, like the first, Eluréd paused to press his palm against a tree, close his eyes for a short period, then continue forward. After the second Elurín had worriedly questioned his older brother, fearing that he was hurt in some way. But he received a smile and a gentle reassurance before being led onward once more.  
  
Finally Dior's eldest halted completely and turned, a strange sort of grin on his face. "There." He pointed with a long, slim finger, just ahead.  
  
In the snow lay a deer, its throat ripped open by what obviously had been razor-sharp teeth, bleeding crimson onto the pure white snow. While Elurín stood, transfixed by the gruesome sight before him, his older brother was moving about quickly, searching. He seemed to find what he sought, for he cried out gleefully a little later and picked something up from the snow before returning to the younger boy's side. In his hand was a long, jagged splinter of rock. Elurín stared at him, gaping, horrified.  
  
"Eluréd what are you—" His words went ignored. Already the older boy had moved forward, running a bare hand across the dead creature's side.  
  
"Look, still warm," he murmured quietly to himself, lightly drawing fingers across the deer's hide in amazement. "They were right." A sad smile took the place of the lop-sided grin. "Thank you," was whispered to non-hearing ears as the hand holding the rock splinter was drawn back, then plunged into the buck's belly. Eluréd gritted his teeth when warm red blood welled up, coating his hands, but he didn't stop his work. His makeshift knife was clumsy and dull, making the job about twenty times harder than it would have been with a real knife. Any sort of knife.  
  
But he was thankful. They might live a bit longer after all.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The icy water raged before them, frothing and roaring as though daring Winter's cold to try freezing it.  
  
Eluréd shivered and stepped back from the bank, returning to his brother's side. "We have to cross here," he announced slowly, purposely not meeting the younger boy's eyes. "I know it looks frightening, but there is no other choice. There are rapids all up and down. Here there's at least that fallen tree," a finger was pointed to the slender tree bridging the river, "which is better than trying to get across by jumping boulders."  
  
Instead of speaking, Elurín merely nodded resolutely. His behavior was almost frightening now. Instead of the cheerful, carefree youngster he had been, he was now exhausted by fear, hunger, and pain. The dark blue eyes that had once held a sparkle of life and mischief now were dull and clouded with a perpetual fear. This journey was taking a heavy toll on Dior's youngest son. One that would not wear off easily. If it did at all.  
  
Yes, it had taken its toll on the older of the two as well, though in a completely different way. Eluréd was now lanky, something he had never been, from too much work and not nearly enough food. He was exhausted as well and it showed clearly, from his tangled hair that hung in strings about his face, the grey tint to his skin, the dark circles under bloodshot eyes. But appearances aside, he had changed in other ways. Never before had he been the silent sort, but now he was cold as the very earth around him, callous. Something had started that wouldn't soon be stopped.  
  
Together the boys made a sad pair, both cruel examples of what became children when their childhood innocence was taken.  
  
"Come on," Eluréd broke the heavy silence, reaching over to gently brush away the strings of hair that had loosened themselves from his brother's braid. His fingers lingered, brushing the younger boy's gaunt, filthy cheek. He looked long and hard at Elurín, studying every detail carefully. If he had tears yet in him he would have shed them then, so terrible was the change in his beloved little brother. But his tears had long ago been spent and instead he sighed sadly, taking his hand from the impassive face before him and grasping the smaller hand in his own.  
  
A gentle tug was all needed, Elurín trailing along behind as he had done for days now. As they approached the slim tree-bridge the two elf- children's steps slowed, yet still they went onward. Eluréd stepped onto the trunk first, allowing himself to adjust and balance. Memories of balancing games flitted through his mind but they went ignored, as had become usual. Memories were a bother when struggling to survive. Games were for children. All they needed now was the skill, one that had, thankfully, come easily to them. Elves were naturally graceful and this sort of task was a simple one for them. Balance and grace was learned early on for children, a part of growing up.  
  
But weakened bodies are not always the same as well-nourished ones.  
  
"I will go first and we can move slowly. Do not look down." An extra hand was offered to Elurín as the younger boy followed his brother onto the tree. It was taken until the smallest of the brothers was balanced, then it was released. As comforting as it was, they could not hold hands going across. For the first time in their journey together, they were separated. "Be careful, Elurín."  
  
With a small nod of encouragement, Eluréd turned and carefully started across, arms held straight to either side so he might maintain his balance. Hardly hesitating for a second, his brother started after in a similar manner, slowly and cautiously. Together the two worked their way across the rushing water, moving over the slim bridge with such ease it almost seemed a simple task.  
  
It was when they were more than halfway crossed that Eluréd felt it. The log seemed to shift. Roll forward slightly. Immediately he halted, eyes wide as he realigned himself, found balance. This was bad. Very bad.  
  
"We have to hurry!" he called back to his younger brother, needing to shout over the roar of the water beneath them. "It's going to roll over! Be careful!"  
  
Struggling to control himself, trying not to tremble like his body so desperately wanted to, he started off again, one foot carefully placed in front of the other. No more than five steps were taken when another shift was felt. They had to hurry. Yet if they did there was greater chance for a misstep and that would certainly be fatal. Eluréd silently groaned in frustrated agony. Trapped. Again.  
  
Not for long. Neither moved, but suddenly the log did, jolting forward as the support that had held it stationary was crushed from the extra weight. Unlike the slight movements, this one could not be checked and the two boys' balance was thrown badly. They wavered, couldn't regain it, and plunged into the frigid waters below.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
But in dreams  
  
I can hear your name  
  
And in dreams  
  
We will meet again  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Pain. Like nothing imaginable. Sharp, icy, burning. All at once. Such agony as he couldn't stand. Oh, to escape it!  
  
He was thrashed about madly, carried in all directions at once. He had not so much as a single thread of control. The most he could do was give in to it, let the excruciating pain do what it would with him.  
  
For a long while he couldn't breath at all and his lungs burned furiously, screaming for oxygen. And then his body was lifted, weightless, thrown against something hard. White pain flared through him, a crescendo amidst that which already consumed him. There wasn't even enough strength in him to scream aloud. If there was any sort of mercy at all, make it stop!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Eluréd wanted to open his eyes. But they were so heavy. All of him was heavy. And… and the pain! Oh, the pain, the pain! He hurt so badly, every inch his body. Agony engulfed him and he writhed, clawed, tried desperately to break free from it.  
  
In his mad thrashing his eyes flew open. A strangled scream was ripped from his raw throat as the light hit his eyes, sent a splitting, searing pain through his head. That was finally too much and, mercifully, darkness enveloped him once more.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"…on the bank… miracle… clinging to the smaller one… nothing we could do… this one… doubtful…"  
  
The fog was so thick, so very thick. But he had to find his way through it. For some reason it was important. He strained, managed to pull his eyelids apart slightly. Blessedly it was dark. He blinked a little, pried his eyes open further. Dark shapes moved in front of him, looming.  
  
"Look at that! He's waking!" A voice, gentle and melodic, came to his ears, the only part of him that seemed to be working properly.  
  
"So he is. A miracle. The Valar must favor this one." Another voice, this one lower. "Do you think he can tell us his name?"  
  
"No, no. Let him be. He needs rest now. Go on! Clear out so he can sleep! You will get your chance to pester him once he's well. Shoo!"  
  
Sleep. Get well. Yes, that sounded good. He sucked in a deep, slow breath. Let it out carefully. His eyes drifted shut once more and he slept.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
When the seas and mountains fall  
  
And we come to end of days  
  
In the dark I hear a call  
  
Calling me there  
  
I will go there  
  
And back again  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Dimui sat unmoving on the boulder, dark blue eyes fixed on the rushing water in front of him. It was summer and still the waters ran furiously, icy cold. His father had told him, so many times, that the waters of this river never warmed. Always they ran from the mountains, colder than ice. But he needed not these warnings; already knew the water was frigid and had no desire to get closer to the bank than the boulder, where he often sat and thought.  
  
Yes, this was a good place to sit and think. For though the hated river had taken the last thing he loved from him, it had also managed to bring new loves. While they would never take the place of what he had lost, they had given him a chance to live again.  
  
His family was gone, forever. That he just had to accept.  
  
Elurín had died in his arms. They had struggled together for so many days and braved the icy waters of the river that none had ever before survived, according to Maeghan. Their hope had been each other, one another's reason for living. Yet now he was alone. This he could never accept.  
  
But the world went on whether he liked it or not. And he could flounder through, longing for something far gone, wishing, wanting. Or he could pick himself up, brush himself off, and keep going. After all, there were always dreams to hold on to.  
  
And they wouldn't want him to be dragged down.  
  
Eluréd couldn't do it. He couldn't leave everything behind for the new family who had adopted him. Kind as the forest-dwelling family of elves were, the memory of his own family would haunt him forever. So Eluréd had died with his brother on the shores of the river.  
  
Dimui the Mourner came. There were still things to do and he had to finish what was started. The road went ever on and on, and he had to follow it. Wherever it led. 


End file.
